Читать книгу The Way Beyond - John Jeffery Farnol - Страница 12

Saladin snorted suddenly, reared violently almost unseating his rider, after which high-spirited protest the intelligent creature suffered his ruffled feelings to be soothed and stood, albeit a little fretful still, while Richard looked about for his hat which had tumbled off and in this same moment a husky whisper reached him:

"Oh, Must' Richard! Master Dick!" And from the denser boskage hard by a face peered up at him, a very ill-used face for it showed divers bumps and bruises and one eye puffed and blackened.

"Good Lord!" exclaimed Richard. "Is that you, Tom?"

"Sure-ly, your honour. Saladin do be mighty skittish for sure," and out from the leaves came a stalwart, dark-avised young fellow, his rough clothes mired and torn, his shaggy head bare and a stout cudgel in powerful fist. "Ay, it be pore Tom, sir, and here be your honour's dicer!" And reaching under a bush, Tom retrieved the fallen hat, dusted it carefully on ragged sleeve and handed it up to its owner.

"But what in the world have you been up to, Tom—your face, man?"

"Why, y'see, Must' Dick, I got away from they danged keepers, dannel 'em! And they was three, consequently do ee see, I took a wallop or so."

"Evidently!" nodded Richard. "But surely they weren't our keepers? I know my father let you off and offered you a job on the Home Farm."

"Ay, so 'e did, and God bless S'Peter for a right, proper genelman. And so I would ha' took that job only Lord Abbeymere's men took me afore I could take anything, do ee see, sir,—Will Judkins, Tom Peevy and Long Bob, they was,—dragged me afore th' Earl, they did, an' 'e sent 'em off wi' me t' Lewes. Hows'ever I got me away, clouted 'em proper, I did, Must' Dick, laid out Will wi' that right-'and cross-counter t' the jaw as you an' me used t' try so often when you was a larning o' boxin' at Oxford,—knocked Bill out o' time I did, right sweet to be'old, and t'other two was easy."

"Bravo, Tom! But what was the new trouble, more poaching?"

"Well, they danged liars swore as they ketched me wi' a brace o' pheasants."

"Hum!" quoth Richard. "And had they, Tom? No, never mind. The question is,—what are you going to do?"

"Lay low till I gets a chance, Must' Dick."

"What chance?"

"To clout th' Earl!"

"What? Abbeymere? Don't be a fool, Tom! That would be attempted murder."

"Well, don't 'e desarve it? Aren't 'e allus been agin me an' me old mother, ah—and worse, dang an' dannel 'im!"

"Well, that's all over now, you are one of my father's people and he'll look after you—so long as you go straight."

"Why, so I will if they'll lemme alone, sir. Only I do wish wi' arl me 'eart as you'd ha' knocked Lord Iford down an' belted 'im bloody wi' your whip."

"What, did you see us, Tom?"

"Ay, I did, sir."

"How long have you been lying hereabouts?"

"Hours, Must' Dick."

"The deuce you have! Then you saw her—the lady?"

"Ar! And a rare booty she be!"

"Did you happen to ... hear us, Tom?"

"Sure-ly, sir—noo and then, arl as I could. But I shut me eyes every time as I see you was agoin' to kiss, out o' respect to you, Mus' Dick." Now at this, Richard flushed hotly and being aware of it, scowled.

"Damn you, Thomas!"

"I know, sir! But I didn't nowise dassent move, and besides your honour can trust me as growed up along o' you, pretty nigh, and is consequent your man ay, an' Sir Peter's world without end, amen!"

"And also taught me the joys of poaching, eh, Tom?"

"No, no, Mus' Dick, say—to lay a snare, toss a fly an' level a gun."

"The question is,—what to do with you now? Mustn't let Abbeymere's fellows take you again. You'd best make for our place and see my father."

"Thankee, sir, but can't nowise be, for it do so 'appen as they lying keepers took me wi' only one pheasant, ye see I managed to get me rid o' t'other uns."

"Ah, Tom, I suspected as much! And after all your promises——"

"Well, that be it, Must' Dick, that be why and wherefore I aren't a goin' to trouble S'Peter no more, not me,—'twouldn't be Johnny Bull. No, I be agoin' to shift for meself."

"Why, then you'll need money, hold out your hand."

Tom extended a broad palm into which Richard emptied his purse.

"Wot ... love me eyes ... fi' pound odd, Must' Dick! It be too much, sir."

"Nonsense, man, you'll need it. And now, Tom, my advice is—cut stick and clear out of Sussex."

"Thankee kindly, your honour, but not me. Sussex I be an' Sussex I'll bide."

"Don't be a fool, Tom. What can you do hereabouts?"

"What had ought to ha' been done years ago, I be agoin' to trounce th' Earl."

"Good God, Tom! But why?"

"Becos 'e aren't fit t' live.... Theer aren't a purty woman as be safe from 'e ... I know! Ay, I know!"

Now at this, Richard swung round in his saddle to gaze back towards Abbeymere Tower in sudden apprehension; and once again was minded to gallop thither.

"There was my sister, Anne, she were a purty lass.... I were a little lad then, but I mind the day as she went—and wheer?"

"Why, Tom, you know she ran off with a tramping gipsy fellow."

"Ay, I knows that's wot they says, Mus' Dick, but me old mother tells different and ... I know! So I be agoin' to watch ... an' creep ... an' wait me chance, an' then——" Tom twirled his heavy cudgel, patted it, kissed it, and nodded. "Then, Mus' Dick, I be agoin' to mark 'e for the gurt beast as 'e be."

"And hang or be transported, Tom."

"Well, let 'em ketch me first.... Ride on, sir, an' I'll go with 'e a piece so fur as Bob Medder's cottage."

"So you know Bob Meadows, eh, Tom?"

"Ay for sure, sir, us do be main friendly ever since 'e grassed me."

"What, knocked you down, Tom, and why?"

"Flat as a flounder, sir—and 'im such a littlish chap! Ye see, Bob spies me a-kissing 'is little maid and, me bein' strange, 'e thinks I mean 'arm—me, as all childer is friends wi',—'ows'ever Bob floors me. But when the child wep and tells 'im I'm her friend, Bob picks me up and axes me pardon and me 'eart fair warmed to 'e, for, love me eyes, Bob's got a turble wallop!"

"He certainly has!" nodded Richard, with fervour.

"And Bob's a man, Mus' Dick! Bob says as he'd ha' finished 'im proper in Paris."

"Finished whom?"

"Why, th' Earl, for sure. An' talkin' of 'e,—wot about that theer bootiful young mam o' yourn wi' the red 'air?"

"It isn't red, y' fool!"

"Looks reddish-like to me when the sun ketches it."

"Auburn then,—well?"

"Ar, but is it well, sir?"

"Dammit, Tom, what d'ye mean?"

"Why, I means, your honour, is it well—for her, over theer at the gurt 'ouse an' 'im t' look at 'er an' stare, an' t'other un t' peep an' pry."

"Tom, what the devil are you suggesting?"

"You've spoke it, sir—the devil! Him——" Richard checked his horse to glance back once again, and spoke on hot impulse.

"Tom,—for God's sake, d'you think there can be any danger?"

"Well, theer was my sister Anne, your honour."

"No!" cried Richard, a little wildly. "No! Damnation, it's unthinkable!" Yet, even as he spoke, he shivered violently and sat staring on vacancy with eyes wide to such sickening horror that Tom ventured to lay comforting hand on his knee.

"Never look so, Mus' Dick, there beant no call to worrit—not yet! An' then besides here be me to keep a eye——"

"Tom, you're crazed, yes—a crazy fool! And, by heaven, you'll make me as bad if I let you! Stand away! Good luck and Good-bye!" And spurring his willing Saladin quite unnecessarily, Richard galloped away like a whirlwind.